Door Slamming and Macaroons
by tai-chi-leigh
Summary: She's stunning. He blushes. So sue him for feeling a little romantic on New Year's Eve. Percabeth AU. Oneshot. Happy New Year!


**A/N: Happy New Year! I wrote this today and I'm sorry it's so short and unbeta-ed (there are probably mistakes!). I wanted to post at least _something_ for you guys. I'm not really happy with the result, but maybe you'll enjoy it nonetheless.**

**Sorry for this tiny bit of self promotion: if anyone is interested, my Tumblr is tai-chi-leigh. I post PJO things on there that I don't post on here, so check it out! I also co-write on a Tumblr blog called pjowriters, which is SO awesome so if you haven't looked at that, please do :)**

**I hope everyone gets to spend tonight with people they love, whether that's friends or family. I also hope this new year brings good things for all of you because you deserve it.**

* * *

"Will you get out of here already?" Daisy clucks, checking Percy with her hip as she folds her apron neatly over her forearm. Her cheeks spread wide into the same toothy grin that Percy remembers since he started working for her over five years ago, and she points her chin toward the door.

Percy looks at the clock. 8:50pm. Only about three hours left until the new year. And although he normally doesn't mind spending time at work, this is the one night he's not that enthusiastic about wiping down tables and serving baked goods.

He frowns, feeling guilty about his lackluster performance all night. He must have been edgy enough for Daisy to take notice of his noninterest in work, which makes him feel bad. She's always so good to him.

"No, no, it's okay, I have tables to wipe down and dishes in the back," he replies, gritting his teeth and resolving to get the job done before his shift ends at 9:00. He refuses to leave early, especially when his responsibilities aren't finished.

As Percy turns to go to the sink where a mountain of dirty dishes remains, he feels a hand snag onto his left arm. He whirls around to face a frowning Daisy, the lines in her aged face folding and crinkling in the warmest way.

"You listen to me, Percy Jackson," she says, unpinning his nametag from his uniform and practically shoving him out from behind the pastry bar, "you are going to get out of here right now and you are going to enjoy your evening. You hear me?"

"—but the dirty dishes—"

"—are nothing I can't handle myself."

She glares at him, and although it's more motherly than stern, Percy knows better than to argue. He hugs her around her neck, gives her a quick peck on the cheek, and hangs his apron up on his allotted hook.

"Do you have any plans?" she asks, her back turned as she starts working on the dishes.

"A party, actually," Percy admits, feeling his previous excitement bubble to the surface of his skin as the guilt recedes. "It should be fairly small, but my friend Jason is going to be there. He lives in California, so I'm pretty excited to see him."

Daisy spares a glance over her shoulder, her eyes bright. "Any lady friends?"

Percy groans, the heat reaching his cheeks. He's always been an obvious blusher, though he doesn't mind this time because it's just Daisy.

"Not this year."

He can hear her chuckle over the running water. "Alright, well be safe."

"Will do," he promises, walking over to the mirror in the back of the shop to make sure his hair isn't sticking up _too_ _much_ in the back and that he doesn't have any incriminating coffee stains on his shirt.

The clock shows in the mirror reflection. 8:58pm. If he runs the few blocks to the apartment where the party is, he'll only be a few minutes late. Which is appropriate for this kind of thing— he's definitely not too eager to be the first one there.

"Happy New Year, Daisy," he calls over his shoulder, making his way toward the exit.

"You too," she grumbles, but Percy knows it's affectionate.

He grabs the door handle to the bakery, feeling the cold New York City air as he pushes it open and—

—_thwack._

"_Ow_. Shit."

"Shit."

Percy jumps onto the curb and surveys the damage. A girl about his age, he thinks— it's hard to see because she's bundled in a scarf and hat— is scowling at him and pressing a hand against her cheek. Although it's dark, he can see a swelling red mark on her face from where the door must have hit her.

"Oh my god, I'm _so sorry_. I didn't see you at all because of the dark and you were right behind the door. That was totally an accident, I'm really sorry. You can hit me back if you want?" Percy winces internally at the last part of that.

She ignores his apologies. "Please tell me you're still open."

"Still what?" he stutters, his hands halfway out in the space between them. What he's planning to do with them, he's not sure. Hug her? Brush her hand off her cheek to see the bruise he left?

He drops them lamely to his side.

She rolls her eyes impatiently.

"Look, I'm in a huge rush and I need something to bring to the party I'm going to. Did you close yet, or are you still open?" She gestures behind him to the row of pastries in the window.

"I mean… sort of closed but considering I just nearly knocked your teeth out I think I can—"

"Great," she breathes, pushing past him and opening the door herself. She steps into the warm glow of the bakery and sighs contentedly, relishing in the contrast of temperature from the cold exterior.

He follows after her inside.

"Perseus Jackson, I told you to get your scrawny butt out of here before I—"

He clears his throat, as the girl sends him an alarmed look. He flashes her what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

It must work, because her shoulders become less rigid.

"Hey Daisy, we have one more customer for tonight, if that's okay. My friend, um—"

"Annabeth," the girl pipes up.

"Yeah. She needs something for the party she's going to. Which is actually a good idea now that I think about it," Percy remarks, rubbing the back of his neck. He should have thought of that himself.

Daisy turns away from the sink, grinning when she sees the two of them standing behind the counter. Annabeth still has a hand pressed against her cheek.

"What's wrong, darling?" Daisy asks.

Annabeth opens her mouth to answer.

"Erm, that would be me." He looks down at his feet, suddenly taking interest in the floor. "Sort of ran into her on the way out."

"It was an accident," Annabeth amends, but Percy sends a frown her direction. "Really, it's fine."

"Well…?" Daisy taps her foot against the counter and raises an eyebrow at Percy.

"I'm sorry?"

"Get her some ice!"

Percy winces and scurries to the kitchen, confused as to why his legs (and brain) are so useless all of a sudden.

He grabs a Ziploc bag, fills it with ice cubes, and sprints back outside.

Annabeth is sitting at one of the tables, her cheeks pink and bright from being outside in the cold (though one is noticeably pinker and brighter). When she sees him emerge from the back room, she corner of her mouth lifts up into an encouraging smile.

She pulls her hat off her head, releasing a cascade of tumbling golden curls, and Percy is momentarily entranced.

_She's stunning._

Daisy clears her throat dramatically. Percy blinks. Annabeth looks like she's trying not to laugh. Percy blinks again.

Percy blushes.

"Um, here." He holds the makeshift ice pack out and she accepts. He almost wishes someone could hit him in the face with a door about now.

"I really appreciate it," Annabeth comments, breaking the silence and sparing Percy from prolonged embarrassment. "But I'm in a bit of a rush."

She looks over at the pastries, then back at the clock, and bites her bottom lip lightly.

If she's trying to leave quickly, that's not helping.

"Macaroons?" Percy offers.

"Perfect."

He turns to Daisy, which is almost just as bad because she's giving Percy this _look_ and he knows that _look_. And it's not good for his emotional health at this particular moment.

"A dozen?"

"One dozen for Annabeth and one dozen for me, please."

He grabs his wallet, and hears Annabeth stand up behind him.

"Nonsense. It's on the house," Daisy insists, packing up the treats in boxes the way Percy is accustomed to doing.

"No no, I appreciate it but I'll pay!" Annabeth exclaims, wobbling slightly as she balances the icepack on her cheek, her bag across her arm, and makes her way over to the counter.

"It's New Year's Eve and the shop is closed. They were going in the garbage, anyway." Daisy hands over the boxes to Percy and winks quite obviously at him.

Percy wonders if sixty-five year old Daisy is trying to be his wingman.

He then considers what this says about his life.

"Thank you so much," Annabeth beams, and Percy thinks her smile lights up the entire room.

(So sue him for feeling a bit romantic on New Year's Eve).

* * *

"Don't hit me on the way out," Annabeth teases, pulling her scarf back up around her neck and stepping out into the cold.

Percy smiles at her back, pathetically, and follows. The door slams shut with no incident.

"It was nice meeting you."

"Same," he replies, hoping to convey how truthful that statement is with his smile. "And I'm really sorry about your face. I mean—me hitting you with the door. Your face is fine normally, I'm sure."

When she laughs, she ducks her chin into her scarf a little and Percy can't even be bothered to be embarrassed because it's so cute. "It's hardly swollen."

"I also hope you like the macaroons. They're really good, it's Daisy's recipe and we make them fresh every morning. So yeah—" he's trailing on, but she doesn't cut him off so he figures that she doesn't hate him _quite_ yet. "Anyway, happy New Year."

"Happy New Year."

He gives a wave, she smiles, and they walk opposite directions down the street.

* * *

When Percy arrives at the party, he can't say he's surprised when someone accidentally slams the door on his face as he tries to enter.

He's even less surprised that it's _her_.

"I guess I'm taking you up on that offer of hitting you back," she says, though her expression is apologetic.

His cheek stings, but he's not upset.

(He might even be a little happy about it, he's not sure yet).

* * *

The bad news is, Annabeth yells at him for _daring_ to show up at the same party as her with the same gift.

"What the hell are we going to do with two dozen macaroons?"

"Eat them?"

"Shut up, you moron."

* * *

But the good news is, their two swollen cheeks don't get in the way of them kissing at midnight.

(Some things, Percy thinks, are worth getting smacked in the face for).


End file.
